


Heartbreaker

by Akiran



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Awkward Daichi, Buttplugs, Lap Dances, M/M, Manipulation, Stripper AU, Stripper Suga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiran/pseuds/Akiran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't believe he allowed Nishinoya and Tanaka to drag him into this. Yet, here he was sitting in the back at the best strip club in town. With a fake ID. He was going to get caught. He could just imagine it being the end of his career. How did he end up here? What kind of choices did he make in his life? But, here he was, breath caught and pulse racing at the pale, silver-haired dancer who went by the name of Sugar.</p><p>Boss didn't let him out unless he begged. And beg he did. Rewarded, he was allowed to perform onstage for the second time in a week. He needed more income, anyway, but Boss always kept him to himself. He was no toy, and despite how sugar sweet his name was, he'd break as many hearts as he wanted to until he proved it. At least, until some kid with a weird dye job and a guy with an odd monk buzzcut pounced on him and absolutely insisted he dance for a friend of theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> I am just such trash. Stripper AUs are my guilty pleasure, and I've wanted a DaiSuga one so long that my friend pushed me to write one.
> 
> To be honest, the fic wasn't actually inspired by How to Be a Heartbreaker, but the song has been stuck in my head for a while so it's quite a feature in the first chapter.
> 
> I update completely irregularly, but I'm way too overly invested in this plotline to stop at the moment. My tumblr is over here if you want to let me know about anything involving my fic personally! I'd really love to hear what people have to say about it, because I'm always quite unsure about my writing style.

“I’m not really sure about this…” Daichi protested as Nishinoya pulled him down the street, with Tanaka in the lead.

“C’mon, c’mon, it’ll be great! Think about all the hot ladies that’ll be around!” Nishinoya chirped happily as he bounced over the sidewalk.

 “What are you scared of, anyways? It’s not like we’ll get caught or anything,” Tanaka added as the trio rounded the corner and stopped at a building.

 It seemed well kept, despite it’s rather dark exterior. Plastered in bold, clean letters were the words “The Crowbar,” lit up in a dramatic style by bright lightbulbs that outlined the text. It blended in with the rest of the street seamlessly, and one could only assume it was a normal bar if passing by. Two doormen stood at the glass doors that served as the entrance, stepping forward when they approached. With a nod, they produced the fake IDs they had purchased last week with Nishinoya’s connections.

Daichi felt significantly more anxious about being caught than Tanaka or Nishinoya, but nevertheless, the doormen nodded and held the doors open to them. As they walked in, he felt a jab in his side.

“Hey, don’t be so uptight!” It was Tanaka, grinning widely as the cool air from the club hit their faces. “If you act like that, you really will get caught. We’re here to relax a bit,” he said, drawing out the word relax as the three took an empty table towards the back, near a bar counter with a rather nervous looking bartender, who smiled as they took their seats.

“Yeah, yeah!” Nishinoya chimed in, “Plus, I heard this is one of the best strip clubs in town.” He raised his eyebrows. “Who knows what we’ll see?”

“I guess…” Daichi trailed off as he eased into the seat. He looked around uncomfortably. The dim lighting served to emphasize the stage in front, which rounded out into the audience, decorated only by a single metal pole installed at the center that the current dancer was at, shimmying to some obscure rock music, and surrounding the stage were what Daichi assumed were the front row seats of plush, black sofas and low tables. He snorted at the club’s excessive use of velvet and exotic tapestries, thinking it was just a little too much.

Yet again, he was jabbed in the side, pulled out of it thoughts, this time by Nishinoya.

“Don’t you think that chick is cute?” he said excitedly, pointing at the stripper on stage.

Too much makeup, Daichi thought to himself, finding that the stripper’s grinding against the metal pole a little too abnormally forced. “Uh, yeah. I guess?” He felt like he was killing the mood a bit. Tanaka and Nishinoya did take the time to bring him here anyways, but he felt himself grow more and more uncomfortable by the second. Why couldn’t he just lean back and enjoy it?

“I don’t know,” Tanaka interrupted, shaking his head. “She seems too easy. I’d like a more cold woman. Like, you know, she’ll seem softspoken, but when it comes down to it, she’ll ignore you when you talk to her? That gives me the chills!”

Sometimes he worried about Tanaka.

“Right, right? Maybe even a little fiery! I wouldn’t mind a slap or two if it came from a beautiful woman like that!” Nishinoya stood up from his seat, clearly excited, as he waved his hands around with sparkling eyes.

Sometimes he worried about Nishinoya too.

The two jumped together, rejoicing over their taste in women whilst disregarding the stares from guests nearby, tearing up as they talked about their possibly masochistic tendencies.

Sometimes he wished he didn’t know them.

“Let’s, uh, calm down, alright?” He pat their shoulders, stiffly forcing them back into their seats. “People are watching,” he whispered harshly, gesturing around them.

Fortunately, they simmered down, their attention drawn to the fading music as the current dancer left the stage. It was quickly replaced with another tune. Daichi recognized the upbeat, pop music almost immediately and chuckled. 

“What’s wrong?” Nishinoya asked, tapping Daichi on the shoulder.

“No, nothing. It’s just the song is kind of funny isn’t it?”

“The song?”

“Yeah, you know? How to Be a Heartbreaker? It was on the radio for an incredibly long amount of time,” Daichi continued, remembering when the radio used to play the song a couple times a day. “It’s the instrumental though. I thought… well, guys go here to get their hearts broken, probably, right? At least some of them, at least. You can’t touch the strippers, but you’re supposed to want them. I just thought the song was kind of fitting is all.”

Nishinoya, clearly not very invested in the conversation, shrugged noncommittally and turned his attention back to the stage. “Let loose a little and stop overthinking!” he chided with his eyes glued to the front.

Perhaps he did need to let loose a little. He was definitely overthinking. He sighed, running his hand through his cropped hair, before looking to the front again.

There was a bit of commotion over the club as hushed whispers began to spread through the crowd. Marina and the Diamonds continued to play, but no one had walked onstage. He caught snippets of conversations as servers and guests passed by their table, speaking in excited tones.

“Sugar is coming out?”

“We’re in for a real treat tonight.”

“Um, excuse me,” Daichi said, waving to get the attention of the bartender nearby, “but who is Sugar?”

The bartender blinked, clearly surprised he was being addressed, and rubbed the back of his head. On the right pocket of his vest was a nametag with “Asahi” printed on it. “Oh, he’s one of the more popular dancers here. Normally, the boss doesn’t let him perform publicly, so he only gets to do it once a week, but he does private dances for the VIP guests.”

“He?”

“Ah, yes, Sugar is one of our few male dancers. You guys seem like first timers, so you may not know, but this isn’t an all-female strip club. It’s mixed, but we have significantly more female dancers. I suppose that’s why the male dancers are more popular?” Asahi chuckled to himself, going back to cleaning glasses and arranging bottles.

Daichi turned back to his table. “You guys did know--”

He cursed as he was cut off by the stage music as it restarted, only this time, it was loud and blaring. Daichi could swear he could see the speakers about to blow out, and strangely, the club members only got more excited. Cheers and catcalls could be heard throughout the room.

_Rule number one, is that you gotta have fun._

Marina’s voice blasted through the room, all too familiar to Daichi. It seemed like they had opted for the full track this time.

_But baby when you’re done, you gotta be the first the run._

The front of a combat boot peeked out from behind the curtains that led backstage, and the establishment went up in cheers for Sugar.

Daichi wasn’t sure what to expect until Sugar strutted on stage with an air of confidence.

Shit, was he breathing? He must have forgotten the basic concept of air for a moment. Maybe he should worry more about himself over his masochistic friends. He gave the thought about a millisecond of consideration as his eyes remained glued to the figure standing on stage. 

_Rule number two, just don’t get attached to…_

Sugar stood dead center, smiling at the audience cockily, with a tiny heart drawn below his left eye. His outfit was almost entirely pleather, shining in the light, and Daichi could have sworn it almost looked wet, clinging to his body like a second skin. His crop top tied around his neck, and thin straps criss crossed around his deliciously flat stomach to connect to his booty shorts, which hardly left anything up to the imagination, though he would have probably given up a limb to see under them. Pale, milky white thighs were covered only by lace thigh highs, with a garter that led under his shorts. If only to complete the costume, Daichi found himself drawn to his combat boots, laced tightly and securely all the way up to his knee.

_Somebody you could lose, so lemme tell you:_

The dancer turned around to reveal a--holy fuck he had a tail. Daichi was going to pass out. He was going to wake up in bed or something, with probably the biggest boner in existence. Why did he think this was a good idea.

Daichi Jr. didn’t seem to agree, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat to adjust his growing hard-on.

_This is how to be a heartbreaker--_

Sugar bent down, caressing his calves before touching the floor, letting the tail sway behind him. It seemed like his shorts were modified in order to accomodate the extra accessory. With a closer look, Daichi saw it matched the rest of his costume, black and shiny, and at the end was a dainty heart. God, he was actually going to pass out.

_Boys, they like a little danger._

With another smile, Sugar pushed himself back up, back forming a perfect arc as he brought his head up, tossing his silvery hair back. Actually, it could be gray, Daichi argued to himself. The light had shined perfectly so that Sugar’s hair seemed metallic and continued to do so as he made his way to the pole.

_We’ll get him falling for a stranger, a player_

He hooked an arm around the metal, spinning around it lazily, before using the other to run his hand through his hair. With a lax hand, he began to untie the top from his neck, stopping at his chest to unstrap the leather connecting it to his shorts before using both hands to pull it off, allowing the revealing piece of clothing to ruffle his hair as it went over his head. He discarded it without a second thought, throwing it to the side of the stage.

_Saying I lo-lo-love you._

Daichi’s throat was effectively dry. Forgetting the basic function of swallowing would be added to the list with forgetting how to breathe. He watched with such utter fascination that he had ignored both Nishinoya and Tanaka, who had tried to get his attention to ask him if he wanted a drink.

_At least I think I do!_

Meanwhile, Sugar had climbed the pole, his leg clamped around the metal as he hung upside down, with his bare back making another perfect arc as he spun around. He grasped the metal firmly from above his head, stopping to grind against it. He noticed a visible shudder run through the dancer as his groin rubbed against the pole.

_Rule number three, wear your heart on your cheek_

Both legs had hooked on the pole now, and Sugar used them to slide himself to the ground, where he lay sprawled, pale chest rising and falling before he got onto his knees.

Daichi felt his throat constrict as he began to play with his shorts, toying with deft fingers and framing his crotch before slipping them off lithe hips. They, too, were discarded at the side of the stage, and Daichi’s breath caught for the umptieth time as his gaze focused on Sugar’s lingerie, laced but not completely see through in the front with an obvious bulge, and a simple string between his ass in the back, pulled aside by the succubus tail that seemed to grow out--oh my god it was a butt plug. He was using a butt plug.

_But never on your sleeve, unless you wanna taste defeat._

What was he supposed to think about this. What was he doing here. Was he going to hell? He was going to hell. Actually, maybe he was already there. Daichi freaked out internally, eyes wide as his eyes followed Sugar’s movements. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from using the pole, or the heat on stage, or something Daichi pretended not to think about, but he was panting, occasionally thrusting upwards into the lingerie for friction in the middle of his dance. The tail swayed enticingly, the heart on the end slapping his calf once in a while when he swayed his hips particularly hard.

_Rule number fo--_

“I need some air,” Daichi stood up suddenly, almost knocking over his chair as he abruptly hightailed it out of the club, cheeks flushed crimson. Ignoring his friends’ protests, he briskly walked through the glass doors he had entered earlier, not allowing himself to stop for the doormen attempting to open them for him.

He made a right, turning the corner to make sure the club was out of sight before sliding to the scratchy cement on the sidewalk. He buried his head into his knees, his mind racing as he took gulps of city air.

He had very little idea how long he stayed like that.

“Hello? Are you alright?” A voice interrupted Daichi’s reverie and looked up to see a woman looking down at him with a concerned expression.

Inwardly, he groaned. Why couldn’t people leave him here to question his choices in peace? Outwardly, he plastered on a pleasing smile. “Yes, I’m sorry for startling you. I was just… getting some fresh air is all.”

“On the ground?” The woman seemed dubious.

“Uh. Yes. I am completely fine!” he tried to reassure the stranger.

With enough insistence that he wasn’t homeless and also didn’t need medical attention, Daichi managed to get the woman to leave. He took it as a sign that he probably needed to head back before Nishinoya and Tanaka got more worried about him than they already were.

He gave the doormen another polite nod as he walked in, easily finding their table, where Nishinoya was chatting enthusiastically with the bartender, who seemed flustered by Nishinoya’s attention. Tanaka was attempting to woo a server, who proceeded to completely ignore him and wipe down another table. When he approached, both greeted him happily.

“Hey, hey Daichi!” Tanaka patted him on the back, laughing boisterously.

“Guess what we got for you?” Nishinoya bounced in front of him, obviously satisfied with whatever he had just done.

“A drink?” God he hoped it was a drink. Imagine if they got him a private dance or something. It would have been absolutely outrageous, both the idea and probably the cost. He would kill them for something like that.

“Nope! A private dance with Sugar!”

Jesus Christ, he was going to have to kill them.


	2. Dirty Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi finds himself way too awkward for this situation, and "Sugar" finds it completely endearing. But, a lap dance in a lap dance, even with a rather unfortunate accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suga's POV! Trying to give a go at alternating POVs. Slap me because I wrote about a page in Daichi's for this chapter and it had to get trashed. Well, I have it. I just. It's just there. For an extra one day?
> 
> I'm normally a really short chapter person--this is a bit on the long side for me. I ALSO NEVER HAVE UPDATED SO FAST BEFORE. This is not normal.

 

“Nn…”

The crowd seemed go wild at the end of his routine, as people called for Sugar and an encore, but he was at his limit.

The buttplug _vibrated_. The Boss didn’t tell him that when he sent him out with it, until he felt it buzzing in his ass during his routine, and it was right there. With every movement, he felt it jab his prostate, and he fought to maintain his confident expression as he went up on the pole.

Now, as the last of the music faded away, he stood up, giving the audience a last smile. God, he was so close, his cock practically peeking out of his G-string, as it twitched to the vibrations.

He strutted off stage, smiling politely when a couple of dancers stopped to compliment him on his performance. He thanked another dancer as she handed him the clothing he had discarded. He really hoped no one noticed his overly ragged breathing, and the awkward way he walked.

Oh, who was he kidding. Everyone knew he was the Boss’s little toy.

Some of the newer dancers were intimidated by him, despite how he tried to be friendly. He passed a couple on the way to the dressing room and they scattered like he was venomous. It figured how he had some troubles making friends around here. Then again, this wasn’t the best establishment to makes friends with people to begin with.

He sighed, making his way to the gaudy dressing room, lit up with bright lights and smudged mirrors. The rooms were assigned by popularity, so he had been lucky enough to get his own. There were only a few more, and most of them were shared, but with his connections to the Boss, it made it even easier to secure one. Circling around the room, he managed to hang up the pleather outfit in his locker, drawing out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, which he wore over his lingerie.

Groaning, he took a look in the mirror, smeared with fingerprints and questionable amounts of lipstick from whoever had the room before him. He considered smudging off the heart under his left eye, which the Boss had insisted he draw to cover his mole. What was wrong with it anyway? He liked his mole.

As if on cue, the buttplug, which was silent the moment he left the stage, began to vibrate again. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, attempting to grasp the table with his arms to keep himself up.

“Ah…” His cock twitched in interest from under his sweatpants, still constricted by the G-string.

He considered rubbing one out, when he remembered that the Boss would probably be angry if he did so. The cruel man liked to see him squirm.

“When do I even--ah, get to take this out anyway?” He moaned, palming himself for relief as the vibrations slowed down.

There was little point in concentrating on the feeling if he couldn’t get off on it, so he froze a moment, making sure that the vibrations had toned down enough that he could stand up properly.

Kind of properly. He wobbled a bit, wincing when the plug pushed up against his prostate again.

God, he needed a drink. Something fruity that wouldn’t make him feel like he got run over by a particularly slow tractor in the morning. Juice. Right, that was what he wanted. Juice. He wondered if Asahi was still at the bar, and if he would make him something.

Heading out of the dressing room area, he moved swiftly towards Asahi’s bar. His usual customers greeted him as he passed by, and he restrained the disgust in his voice in favor of a pleasant smile. Pleasing the folks would bring in more work, after all.

He caught sight of Asahi, polishing a glass at the counter. Interestingly enough, he seemed engaged in a rather enthusiastic conversation with another boy--was he old enough to even be here?--with an odd dye job. Before he managed to get Asahi’s attention, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Hey hey! Are you Sugar by any chance?” The guy had a shaved head and seemed to be putting on an intimidating expression. Somehow, he could only find it sort of funny. He looked like a Buddhist monk. Or a gangster. Not that either of those should have similarities.

“Yes?”

“You are?” Dye job boy, his attention now caught, twisted away from his conversation. “You need to dance for a friend of ours! He was totally into you.”

“Uh. I’m just here for a drink.” He took a seat at the counter, where the two pulled up chairs to join him.

“Booze?” Dye job boy raised his eyebrow and gave him a knowing grin. Was he even old enough to drink?

“Juice, actually,” Asahi cut in timidly, “I blended some mango and passionfruit mixes together for today. I figured you’d be tired after your performance.”

“Thanks, Asahi.” He always knew what he wanted. Pillowing his head in his arms, he leaned into the counter as the bartender served his drink.

“Anyways, are you okay?” He set the glass in front of him, lowering his voice so the others didn’t hear.

He was always so concerned for him. It was very sweet of him to be, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. The Boss had some things up his sleeve,” he replied, glancing downwards, “but I’ll be okay. I guess I’ll drink this and get back to work."

Asahi was one of his very few friends in the club who also knew about his situation and kept it a secret. He appreciated his efforts greatly, and had become close friends with him while he worked there, until later, when he found out they were both in the same college.

“Speaking of work!” Monk guy clapped him on the back, friendly and, well, a little invading.

“Would you dance for a friend of ours?” dye job boy finished.

“Sorry, uh, I normally only dance for the VIPs.” He nursed the glass with both his hands, sitting up to take a sip. “Hey, Asahi, this is really good!”

“C’mon, you won’t regret it! We can even take care of the money.”

“Oh, good idea, Tanaka!”

“Right? We probably have enough combined,” monk--no, Tanaka exclaimed heartily.

“They seem pretty insistent.” Asahi chuckled. As sympathetic as he was to his situation, he wasn’t helping. “Maybe you should do it?”

“See, Asahi’s on our side! I’m Nishinoya, by the way, and that guy over there is Tanaka.”

Tanaka grinned, smile wide and somehow a little predatory. “So? How about it?”

He considered for a moment. “How’s 40?” If they wouldn’t give up, maybe he’d overcharge enough that they’d back down. He turned back to his drink, downing it and handing it Asahi before standing up to leave when two twenties were shoved rather unceremoniously in his face.

“Is this good?” Nishinoya inquired, as he held up the money.

“I. Wait. I can’t--you.” Finally, he sighed. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” Now he felt guilty for overcharging these first timers, who apparently didn’t know how much a lap dance for one song normally cost. Awkwardly, he took the cash, shoving it into his pocket. “When is, uh…”

“His name is Daichi. He stepped out for a while,” Tanaka said, looking towards the entrance. “Ah, but here he comes!”

“Perfect. Tell him to meet me in there.” He pointed at one of the more private booths at the other side of the club, somewhat isolated from the rest of the floor by a cloth curtain. Without waiting for a response, he made a beeline back to his dressing room.

Wearing the same outfit he did on stage would probably be the best choice. It was the only one that really matched the tail that seemed to come straight from his ass. Silently, he prayed that it wouldn’t go off during his dance. The last thing he wanted was an unfortunate accident all over his outfit. Or worse, over his customer.

He slipped out of his sweatpants and T-shirt and into his pleather outfit, redoing the straps across his stomach and adjusting his tail through his shorts. Confirming his appearance in the mirror, he nodded, satisfied, before a small tube of lipstick caught his eye. It stood innocently at the edge of the desk, and he remembered that a customer had given it to him, insisting he wear it while he danced. Now that he recalled it, that guy was sort of creepy. It wouldn’t hurt though, he thought to himself, popping the cap off the tube and carefully applying it. Not light enough to be fuschia, but not bright enough to really be a hot pink, he could only describe it as magenta. After all, he was particular about his colors. He managed a flirty smile in the mirror before heading out the door towards the booth, where he saw someone with short, cropped hair fidgeting in front of the curtain.

“You’re supposed to sit in the booth you know, not wait outside of it,” he said good naturedly from behind him. “Daichi, was it?”

The other visibly jumped, spinning around fast enough that he thought the guy had given himself whiplash. “U-uh, yes, I--sorry about my friends, they’re, I--are you wearing lipstick?”

Wow, he was kind of cute. Or, well, handsome. Cute really didn’t describe it. His shoulders were broad, the kind that he wanted to run his hands over, and his jaw was square and smooth. His eyes, a dark nutty brown, screamed a mix of ‘oh wow this is awkward’ and ‘please throw me in the dumpster before I embarrass myself’. “I am. Do you like it?”

“Yes! I mean, I guess. If you like it. I like it, though. It’s nice. Of course, if you don’t like it, then I don’t like it. Wait, that didn’t sound right. Pink, uh, suits you. A lot. Yeah.” Daichi stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere but his face.

“Magenta.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“It’s magenta. The lipstick.” He leaned back, resting his hands on his hips. “It’s not just pink.”

“Isn’t that pink? Does it… make a difference?”

“Yes. Yes it does.”

“Oh.”

There was a standstill in conversation as Daichi stood a little dumbfounded and at a loss of what to do. He figured he would give him a little push. “So,” he started, moving to press one of his hands against Daichi’s large chest, “I assume you’re here for what you paid for?”

Daichi seemed to get only more flustered. “I. Yes. That is, if you’re okay with that! My friends paid for it, uh, actually you probably already know that, but I, you, are we actually doing this.”

He chuckled. “Maybe you’re not one for talk.” Swiftly, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him onto the booth chair, swinging a leg over until he was straddling his thighs. He put a hand on the wall, right by Daichi’s head, and his other went to quietly close the curtain.

The everpresent music of the club was still reverberating through the building, this time a generic hip hop theme with an accentuated beat.

“Mm…” He slid his hands down Daichi’s back, relishing in his full body shudder before dipping down next to his ear. “Have you been to a place like this before?”

Daichi shook his head.

“Well, let me teach you the rules,” he began, hands wandering back towards his own body. “First, no touching,” he said as he undid the straps crossing his stomach.

“I figured,” Daichi replied, eyes drawn to his fingers, which played with the button of his shorts before moving upward to remove his crop top.

“But,” he continued, bringing his lips a hair’s breadth from Daichi’s, distracting him as he roughly palmed him through his clothes, “I can touch you.”

“I figured that, too,” he groaned, restraining himself from arching into his touch.

“Second is that you pay per dance.” He brought his hands up, pushing them against Daichi’s abs before resting them on his shoulders, grinding his hips hard against the other’s. “So you’ve got one dance, I guess.”

“Totally unrelated--ah--question,” Daichi cut in, shuffling under him. “Is that really a…” He gestured towards the tail.

“A buttplug? Yes.” He smiled cockily, grinding against him again before leaning in for a kiss. Their tongues entwined together, and if anything, it was rather pleasant, and he pulled back with a grin. “I guess you’ve got lipstick on too, now.”

Daichi could do nothing but grunt in response, making a wounded noise as he fastened his lips on his neck, leaving behind kiss marks and lipstick stains.

“You’re hard,” he observed, as if commenting on scientific data and not stripping in Daichi’s lap.

“I thought that would have been obvious,” Daichi commented, laughing a bit. “But for posterity’s sake,” he said, eyes twinkling as he pushed his hips up, “so are you.”

“Nn…” The dancer’s nimble fingers ran over his chest, playing with a nipple before going down to palm himself through his shorts. “No touching,” he reminded him.

“It’s not really touching, is it?” Daichi asked as he pushed up again particularly hard to meet him as he ground downwards.

“Ah!” Shit, okay, he really ought to have been more specific about the no touching rule, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “I-I guess not.” He ran his fingers through Daichi’s cropped hair, finding it oddly soft.

“Kiss me again?” Daichi asked, face tilting up, as their lips met again. He stayed near his face this time, only millimeters away, and distantly, Daichi filed away in the back of his mind that the dancer smelled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla.

Really, this boy was way too sweet for this kind of private dance, the other thought vaguely, still grinding down against him. “Too nice for dirty talk?” he asked as he stood up on the chair, slowly sliding his shorts off.

Daichi reddened immediately, his face just inches away from his lingerie covered dick, no longer completely contained by his constricting G-string. “Well,” he said, mouth suddenly dry and hoarse, “I kind of want my mouth on your dick, if that counts for anything.”

“It’s not considered touching, right?” he replied, lifting an eyebrow while echoing Daichi’s earlier words.

And that was all Daichi needed before he leaned forward just a little bit, kissing the tip of his dick before moving his tongue to tease right under his head.

“Shit, wait, that’s--hmngh!--s-sensitive.” He shuddered, knees wobbling as he scraped his fingers on the wall for purchase.

“That’s kind of the point,” Daichi said against his head, breathing hot air over him before dipping his tongue into the clear at the tip, causing the other to thrust his hips closer.

His ministrations continued and he mouthed at his cock before the other felt something vibrate in his ass.

_No. Oh my god, no._

“Daichi, uh,” he tried to say as the vibrations sped up, “m-maybe we should stop?” His body was suddenly on fire, and every movement on his dick only sent him a little closer to the edge that he wasn’t near a couple seconds ago. God, the Boss was going to pay for this.

“Mm?” Daichi was engrossed, teasing his frenulum relentlessly as the dancer felt his knees begin to wobble again.

“ _Fuck_.” His back arched, tense like a bow pulled taut and ready, and all it took was a single shift in his hips--the plug ramming straight into prostate--before his knees buckled and he collapsed onto Daichi, giving a full body shudder as he rode out his orgasm, clawing at the front of his shirt and his dick twitched, white coming in tiny spurts over his thighs and Daichi’s own lap. For a moment, he sat there in silence, the plug now becoming more of an oversensitive, uncomfortable buzzing, hands still twisted in Daichi’s front and dick softening, and then he realized, almost jumping out of his lap.

“So…” Daichi said, trailing off.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.”

“No, uh, it’s okay. I guess?” He looked down at his jeans, now decorated with a streak or two of white.

He grabbed his discarded crop top. “I’ll clean that up right away; this has, uh, never happened before. I can buy you a new pair--god, I’m really sorry about this.” He made to wipe it off with the top, but Daichi grabbed his wrist.

“No, no. I have plenty of jeans at home. I don’t want you to ruin your clothes, er, costume, er, outfit.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Do you have maybe a tissue or something?”

“Right, we have napkins,” he said, adjusting himself into his G-string again before opening the curtain. He headed towards the nearest table, grabbing a couple from the dispenser, before heading back into the booth. “Um, here.” He handed them to Daichi, who proceeded to get as much of the mess off as he could. “Normally, that doesn’t happen. I, uh,” he fumbled slightly. How exactly was he supposed to explain that he was told to wear a vibrating buttplug that the Boss had the remote for, and that it had gone off during his session?

“No, no, it’s okay, um,” Daichi searched for a name. He borderline sucked off this guy without even knowing his real name. What kind of idiot was he? “Sugar?”

“Sugawara. Actually, Suga is better,” he finished. At this point, the least he could do was give him his name.

“Suga, then.” Daichi smiled a bit, and Suga was taken aback by how sweet he was after he jizzed all over his lap. “It was nice. Really nice. Uh. You’re really good at what you do. Wait, no. That sounded kind of harsh. It felt good? No, that wasn’t right. Just, thanks.” He fumbled over his words, panicking a little, and Suga found himself laughing.

Daichi’s eyes widened. “Did I say something funny?”

“Gosh, no. You’re just kind of weird, you know? Your friends pounced on me just a while ago and paid for a lapdance for you; you got me off and I came all over your lap, and you’re thanking me?"

Daichi seemed puzzled. “Should I not be?”

“You’re a funny guy.” He turned and gently pushed him out of the booth. “Your time is up, so you better get back to your friends.”

“And you?”

“Well, I work here. I’ll be picking up customers.”

Daichi seemed unsatisfied by his answer, his eyes looking away. “Oh.”

“Listen, to be honest, you seem like a really good guy. Your friends, too. I don’t really think you all should be hanging around places like these. It’s kind of dirty.”

“I was dragged here,” he admitted, “but if it’s so dirty, what are you doing here?”

Suga chuckled. “You say that like I’m not dirty in association for working here. Business is business.” Suga replied, shrugging. “Sometimes you need to do the dirty work to get by, I suppose."

A girl in a tight minidress walked up as the two were talking, standing next to Suga. “The Boss wanted to talk to you,” she said, before scurrying off.

Something in Suga’s eyes hardened, but Daichi wasn’t sure what. “I need to go,” he said, smiling apologetically. “If you knew better, you wouldn’t come back,” he chastised.

Daichi could do nothing but nod in acknowledgment as he watched the boy with silver hair and milky, white skin hurry off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, look, there it is! The garbage truck is here to pick me up! Goodbye I must go join my trash brethren.
> 
> Porn isn't something I'm good at. Or angst. I'm working on it. Slowly, and not so surely. Feel me when I say that we all love porn and angst but DAMN. I like to think I'm better at humor? /I say as a I write a stripper AU.
> 
> Headcanon'd that Suga is really loves his colors, and I guess you'll also find out why? Somewhat implied actually that both Suga and Daichi are in college, and I have some college scenes planned. Because this trash has decided that somehow mixing a college AU and stripper AU was a good idea.
> 
> Guess who the Boss is? I'll be rotting over my life choices on this [tumblr](http://aki-ran.tumblr.com). Anything y'all have to say is appreciated!


	3. Less Devious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi is sometimes an idiot. Well, he's frequently an idiot, but at least he has good intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Model an anime after me. It'll be called "The Disappearance of That One Haikyuu Stripper AU Fic Author."  
> And later, I'll be found. In the dumpster.
> 
> Seriously, though, writing is a hobby and I do it when I have free time. When I do not have free time, I cannot write. I have been working on this chapter since I finished the last, but the pace at which I've been working is much smaller. I do apologize, but remind you again that I am a very irregular updater, and can get quite busy. Though I do apologize the chapter is fairly short.

Occasionally, Daichi wondered if some things actually happened. Like, for example, a particularly good grade on a test. Or a raffle he had won two weeks ago. Or perhaps an extremely gorgeous stripper that danced in his lap and proceeded to orgasm in it. Yeah, sometimes he really wondered if things like that actually happened. Maybe he had gotten a severe concussion, and this was all fabricated from the deep recesses of his mind. Not that Daichi really had recesses _that_ deep in his mind.

The three of them sat quietly on the bus. Well, Daichi sat quietly, while Tanaka and Nishinoya argued about some vague topic that he had very little interest in. Events replayed in his head over and over, and he couldn’t seem to shake them from his mind. One specific image became committed to memory--Suga’s milky white skin, his eyes squeezed shut and head cast downward as he trembled, gripping Daichi’s shoulders like a lifeline while he came in his lap. He went over these scenes again and again until a thought suddenly struck him.

He stood up abruptly.

“I forgot to tip him.”

The lady in the seat in front of him did not appreciate his sudden outburst.

“You what?” Nishinoya tried to coax him to sit down.

“I forgot the tip. I didn’t tip him.”

“I don’t think that’s of a huge concern,” Tanaka said, shooing the air in dismissal.

“No. No, it’s a huge deal. He probably thinks I’m an asshole. Oh my god, what if he thinks I’m cheap? Or that the dance was terrible?”

“I really doubt that,” Nishinoya commented as he eyed the faint stain on Daichi’s jeans.

“I have to go back.”

“That’s great and all, but--”

“I have to go back right now to apologize and give him a tip.”

“You can’t do that.”

He turned sharply towards Tanaka. “Why not?”

“Because we’re on a bus and we’ve got another half hour before it stops at our station, moron.”

Daichi wasn’t very used to being called moron, given normally the other two had assumed that status. He also wasn’t very used to being stared down by a bus full of people, and he quickly sat down, pondering over his life choices and lack of thought before action.

By the time the bus had dropped them off, Daichi had already decided that he wanted to take the nearest bus back to town, only to be stopped by his friends.

“Think about it,” Tanaka said. “It’s already pretty dark, chances are when you make your way back, the place will be winding down.”

“It’s a strip club.”

“... Right,” Nishinoya continued. “That’s a good point. But, still, you should wait a little bit before going back. At least go tomorrow.”

“Why would I do that?”

“We wouldn’t want you to get swept away into the world of the red light district, Daichi. It’s not a safe place to be. Who knows what scandalous man or woman wants to get their hands on you and those muscles for a night?” Tanaka deadpanned.

“Very funny.” Daichi rolled his eyes and pointed up the street. “Tomorrow then. I’m heading home, okay?”

The three bid their goodbyes and headed their own ways, and Daichi could think only of the boy with silvery hair and smooth skin on his walk home, and he hoped to whatever cosmic force was out there that Suga didn’t think he was an asshole for not tipping him.

\-----

“You wanted something?” Suga said as he slowly opened the door to the Boss’s room. On the door was a shiny, gold nameplate (that seemed too shiny to actually be gold; everyone knew the Boss was quite the miser) engraved with the words “Oikawa Tooru, Head Manager.”

“Suga!” Oikawa’s voice was sickly sweet, and he could hear the cloyingly sweet smile on his face before he could see it. On his lap was another girl, one that Suga didn’t recognize. She started when she saw him and Oikawa roughly pushed her off and shooed her out of the room.

“Please don’t call me that.” He grimaced.

“What’s so wrong by calling you by your cute nickname? I think it’s great,” Oikawa said in a singsong voice.

“I’d prefer not to mix my business affairs with my personal life.”

“Well, well, you can be a prude sometimes.” He pouted, and his lips turned up in a grin. “So how’s that present working out for you?”

“Fine,” Suga replied curtly, no longer as riled up as before, since he had his release. All over a handsome boy’s lap, he added thoughtfully and silently. Though, if Oikawa found out about that, he would be in loads of trouble.

“Great. I just got it recently and wanted to test it out, so I thought you would be the _perfect_ test subject!”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that all you needed to see me for?”

“Suga,” Oikawa said playfully, drawing out the last letter, “can’t I call you in just to hang out with you? You’re such a good employee and all.”

“Not if you want us busting chops and getting customers.”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

“So? What did you need?”

Oikawa’s sultry, playful tone turned into one with even more glee. “Someone made it known to me that you weren’t taking as many VIP customers as you normally do. And, of course, because I am so kind and concerned for your well being, I’ve made some private deals to get you a few more! I’m so glad you have a three day weekend off from classes! I hope it’s free.”

Suga stiffened. He would have to cancel his plans for the next three days and work. “... It is.” He spoke hesitantly.

“Good! Now that that’s out of the way, you should go back to work!”

He left silently, shutting Oikawa’s door with a tiny click. Heading back to his dressing room, he glanced at the clock. Only another hour until his shift was over. One more hour.

\-----

Daichi marched through the streets, cash in hand, with a resolute expression. Today was the day. He was going to tip Suga. Suga would be ecstatic; he would no longer think that he was some sort of selfish asshole who demanded private lap dances and didn’t tip and maybe he would--

He shook himself out of his odd daydreams. Now was not the time to envision things as people walked past him, giving strange looks at the obvious wad of cash clenched in his hand. He was a man on a mission, he thought to himself as he kept walking, motivating himself to be confident and assertive. Yet, as The Crowbar came into view, the mere sight of it seemed to instill him with anxiety.

Flashing his ID, he walked in with the grace and fluidity of a drunk ostrich.

Much to his relief, the bartender from last night was at the counter. He approached him with wobbly feet, almost missing the tall seat as he settled in. “E-Excuse me, um, Asahi. I’m looking for someone.”

Asahi hummed, focused on polishing the glass in his hands without looking up at the man who addressed him. “And who would that be?”

“Suga? I mean, Sugar, I mean, whatever you call him here.”

“What do you need from him?” He looked up slightly, wondering if it was some sort of rabid fanboy of Suga’s. God, he was so bad at kicking people out. Why did people assume he was some tough dude capable of getting rid of hostile guests? Was it his size?

“I… didn’t tip him.”

The response startled Asahi for a moment, and he finally raised his head to look at the man across the counter. “Oh, you’re the one from last night. The, uh, less devious customer.”

Daichi winced at Asahi’s attempt at saying “naive” in a nice way. “Yes, uh, I have money here. If I can’t meet him that’s okay! I just wanted to give this to him, that’s all. I don’t have any other intentions! If you want I can just give this to you and maybe you can pass it to him?” He began shoving the money in Asahi’s direction.

“No, no, please don’t do that!” The bartender was immediately flustered and attempted to push the cash back in Daichi’s direction.

It took a moment before both realized how stupid they looked to outsiders and stopped immediately.

“Suga just went out for lunch break. He said he was going to eat at the coffee shop down the street, if you want to meet him there.” Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Asahi questioned if telling this kind-of stranger Suga’s current location was a good idea.

“Oh. I. Thanks. I’ll do that,” Daichi responded lamely. He managed to properly stand up and walk out, giving a half-hearted wave to Asahi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this baby right after I finished writing it. Dropped it like it was hot. I really do prefer humor over smut stuff. Unfortunately, I've become more uncomfortable with the aspect of writing the actual frickle-frackle that y'all may or may not be waiting for at the very very end, and am booting this fic down to an M rating.
> 
> I would much rather go into DaiSuga's relationship development and possible plot!
> 
> Slight, important thing I left out. They're college students. Ha. Ha. Not sure what happens when you mix a college AU and stripper AU together, but it sounds messy.
> 
> EDIT: LOL JK IT WAS ALREADY MATURE WHAT WAS I THINKING IT'S BEEN A WHILE


	4. Let's Go on a... Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How about you keep that money for now,” Suga said, holding up a finger before Daichi could protest, “and take me out to eat sometime?” He flashed another charming smile. At least he hoped it was charming. What was he even doing--inviting this almost-stranger-kind-of-hot man out for a meal with him? Suga wished he could just walk back into his dressing room and lock himself in his closet. This was stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here update is. Slow I am. GO AT IT.
> 
> Also, as a please read: I don't have this AU copyrighted or anything (that would be weird). The more porny stripper AUs, the better. All I want in life is to see more stripper AUs. And Daisuga. So, if you've been wanting to make you own fic, go right ahead! You don't need my permission or anything--I'd be absolutely ecstatic! I'd probably walk into a door or something. In happiness.

“A large mocha to go with whole milk and this sandwich, please.” Suga slid the premade sandwich over the counter with a smile.

The cashier rang it up without so much as looking up at him or the sandwich, mindlessly sliding it back to him after he paid. Lunchtime was always pretty busy in the cafe, and people came and went in an endless stream, jostling each other through doors and long lines. Suga was no different, bumping into shoulders as he made his way to the other end of the counter to wait for his drink, joining the crowd of people. It seemed like he’d be waiting long. He made a move to slide his phone out of his pocket when a deep voice cut through the noise.

“Excuse me, did someone named Suga order something here?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not in a position to answer that. You’re holding up the line, and if you do not order, I must ask you to leave,” the cashier replied smartly.

Suga whipped his head toward the direction of the voice, seeing the handsome man from last night. Internally, he freaked out, immediately turning away and burrowing further in the crowd of people. Why was Daichi here? What did he want? A refund? He didn’t give refunds. He thought he chased him away last night. A man as great as Daichi had no good reason to be trying to find a stripper. For now, he’d back out quietly and avoid him. So long as Daichi didn’t see him, he wouldn’t know he was there--

“Large mocha with whole milk for Suga!” a cheery barista called out, sliding his doom across the countertop.

Why.

He snuck a quick look backwards, hoping that maybe the gorgeous man, who had still been arguing with the poor cashier until now, didn’t catch that, but instead he made direct eye contact with Daichi.

Why this.

He glanced around, trying to find an escape path, but all the exits were blocked by masses of people and Daichi was already making a steady beeline towards him with a firmly determined look on his face, leaving the disturbed cashier behind.

“Suga,” Daichi starts, still making his way towards Suga, “I forgot to give you this.” He finally stands in front of him and unceremoniously thrusts a wad of cash into his face.

“Um? What is this?”

Daichi blushes furiously. “A tip. For last night.”

“For last night? You came back to give me a tip?”

“Yes. Was I… not supposed to do that?”

Suga glanced around, realizing their conversation was far from private, as they were in the middle of the coffee shop and throwing quite the ruckus, drawing more than a couple pairs of eyes.

God, Suga’s life was just never private nowadays.

“Could we go somewhere less…?” Suga asked as he gently nudged Daichi towards the entrance, quickly grabbing his drink before following him out. “Let’s go back to the bar.”

\-----

“I’m so sorry I forgot to tip you,” Daichi began immediately, once they were seated at the bar seats and Asahi had left temporarily to clean up tables.

“No, really, I should be sorry,” Suga started, “I didn’t think your friends were serious when they asked me to give you a lap dance, so I tried to overcharge them so they would back down, but they went straight through with it. You really ought to not be tipping me at all.”

Daichi paused, thinking over the explanation, but plowed on. “Don’t be sorry. My friends may be some of the most annoying people on the planet. But still, that’s the price you charged, and you deserve a tip.”

“My services were just that great, huh?” Suga smiled coyly, flashing pearly whites at Daichi, who immediately began to stutter.

“No! I mean yes. I was very satisfied with your service. Like, as an employee! Unless that was offensive. I didn’t mean to be offensive. I just. Please take my money.” He sighed defeatedly, hanging his head while shoved the wad of cash towards Suga again.

“You know what?”

“I do not really know what.” These past few days were just not Daichi’s days.

“How about you keep that money for now,” Suga said, holding up a finger before Daichi could protest, “and take me out to eat sometime?” He flashed another charming smile. At least he hoped it was charming. What was he even doing--inviting this almost-stranger-kind-of-hot man out for a meal with him? Suga wished he could just walk back into his dressing room and lock himself in his closet. This was stupid. He was probably busy. Most people had actual things to do in life that didn’t involve hanging out with people like him. He also had work, thanks to a certain boss. Shit, he had work. What a smooth move--to invite someone and then tell him he was busy. Not that he would have said--

“Yes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes. That sounds great. I can come here to pick you up; does that sound good?”

Still slightly confused over Daichi’s positive response, Suga mumbled a response somewhere along the lines of a questionable yes.

“Is something going on here?” Asahi’s gentle voice trailed into their conversation as he made his way back to the counter, rag tossed over his shoulder.

Actual Jesus. Suga’s savior. He attempted to communicate SOS signals to Asahi telepathically, glaring holes into the center of the large man’s forehead. Of course, Asahi didn’t get it. Suga would have to rethink that savior part. The Jesus part was kind of accurate.

“Asahi!” Daichi brightened. When were those two so chummy? “I managed to find Suga thanks to you. We’ll be going out to eat sometime,” he said smoothly.

Thanks to him? Suga tried to glare more holes into Asahi’s head, with a more malicious intent this time. “Did you tell him where I was?”

“Yes,” Asahi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry. He seemed pretty harmless.”

“Well that’s true.” Suga nodded sagely. “I’m glad he wasn’t a creeper or something.”

“Hey!”

“Ah, but,” Asahi continued, “don’t you have to work pretty late these next couple days?”

Leave it up to Asahi to detonate Suga’s landmine of awkward situations with his super knowledge of his schedule.

“... Yes. Actually, I may not be free the next couple days, so you might not be able to take me out to eat after all,” Suga confessed sheepishly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Asahi cleared his throat in an evidently fake manner.

“Could we go after your work? Maybe like a late dinner?”

“I don’t think you want to eat dinner at midnight.”

“That’s fine with me! Really, I do need to pay you back. I stay up late enough anyways,” Daichi replied goodnaturedly. “I can come over tomorrow around then, if that’s okay with you?”

Bless this kind man. Daichi really owed him absolutely nothing. But he was hot. And also really nice. There was really no longer a reason to say no; he ought to really lay back and have fun for at least one night. “Sure. That’s fine.”

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Suga nodded and watched Daichi as he made his way out of the club, giving him a small wave when he looked back and promptly crashed into someone walking through the doors.

“Really smooth,” he called out as Daichi apologized profusely to the stranger, then hurried out the door.

\-----

Daichi was absolutely ecstatic. So ecstatic he took the wrong bus home and had to walk back from another town. But it was completely worth.

So worth.

He had a date with Suga.

He came back to his tiny apartment, shutting the door firmly and then proceeded to not run through the living room shouting in joy. That was something only children did. He was not a child. Definitely not. He simply walked calmly around the room and pondered over his thoughts. Aloud. In a raucous manner. He most certainly did not fist punch in the air and then face plant into his couch. He was a mature and respectable adult.

What he did do was call Nishinoya. Tanaka, strangely enough, did not answer his phone.

“Oh Ryuu? He forgot he had a project due in a couple days, so he said he’d spend the entire day praying he could get it done.”

“That doesn’t sound very effective.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it! Anyways, what did you need?” Nishinoya laughed on the other line, and Daichi could almost feel his friend slapping him on the back.

“Well I… got a date with Sugar--I mean, Suga.”

“What?” Nishinoya screeched, “Really man? That’s fucking awesome! Congratulations! Damn, if only we had your hots. I’d be picking up some fiery women all day every day.”

“I--” Daichi started, only to be cut off.

“And what’s with you calling him Sugar? Just straight up call him Suga! He told you his name, so use it!”

“Well--”

“And you’re acting shy! Where’s the confident captain I know? Where’s that charming, manly appeal that woos every person in the nearby vicinity, huh?

“Nishinoya please shut up.”

“Okay, okay. I give. But still, you don’t need to keep calling him Sugar and correcting yourself. It’s Suga for you.”

Daichi sighed. “Right, right. Anyways, I’ll be going tomorrow to pick him up for late dinner.”

Nishinoya whistled. “You’re chasing that booty hard.”

“You are making me uncomfortable.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He relented. “I was just joking, I swear. But make it the best evening of his life, you hear? It’ll be great.”

“I will. Or I’ll try,” Daichi agreed.  
“Actually, Daichi. Do you mind if I go with you?”

“For?”

“Your wingman! Of course you need one! And I’m definitely most suited.”

“Okay, even you know that is an utter lie. You being my wingman would be an actual disaster.”

“Well when you put it that way.”

“Yeah.”

There was a lull in conversation, until Nishinoya spoke again.

“Okay. You might have seen through that. The truth is I might, uh.”

“You might?”

“Be a little into the bartender.”

“The bartender? He doesn’t even look like the sadistic type,” Daichi said in disbelief.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Forget I said that.” He exhaled. “Anyways, I guess you can come with me. Asahi will probably be there.”

“Great! Tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, maybe come over to my place at around 10? We can catch the bus again.”

“Sounds good to me. See you then!”

Daichi bid his friend goodbye and hung up the phone. Moments after he set it down, it buzzed alive with a text message.

Maybe you can even have him jizz in your lap again. ;)

God dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what I'm doing? Because I don't. Absolutely no clue. At all. Dump me back into the trash can to pick me up with the rest of my trash brethren.
> 
> You can find me over at http://aki-ran.tumblr.com.  
> You MIGHT be able to remind me to update. With probably very little success, but don't worry, it will come eventually. Like the end of the world. I promise it won't take that long.


	5. Burger King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re eating here? Can we even do that?” Suga said in disbelief.
> 
> “Of course! It’s my favorite place to eat. My treat.”
> 
> “Daichi. I’m not sure you understood what I was trying to ask. I meant the place is closed.”
> 
> Daichi swiveled around. Sure enough, the restaurant was unoccupied and a big, fat sign that said “CLOSED” decorated the fancy door. “Oh,” he commented stupidly.
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “Um.”
> 
> “Well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo and behold I've risen again from that great pile of trash over yonder. More humor abounds. Hopefully I'm not losing my touch. I've just crawled out of finals week and college in general, so I'm as pooped as poop ever gets. Every time I transfer the text from Google Docs over to the HTML here, I realize the italicization I added isn't actually necessary. Welp. P.S. Some Asanoyas. Enjoy!

Boss was not joking when he said he had him booked all weekend. He spent most of his waking hours dancing for sweaty, grabby men. A couple had even reached into his shorts and played with his underwear while he was in their laps. Wolves, that’s what they all were, he thought in distaste, as he took off his shorts in the dressing room. It was as if hands were still roaming his body, touching his thighs, his chest, intruding into his personal space. He shuddered briefly, curling into himself for a moment before stepping in front of the mirror to survey any damage.

His fingers ghosted over new bruises that littered his thighs. Thankfully, there weren’t that many to hide. As he reached for a pair of slacks, there was a knock at the door.

“Suga?” A mop of orange hair peeked through the crack.

“Ah, Hinata? What do you need?” Suga turned towards him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“The Boss is looking for you,” he stuttered, looking at the floor. “He wants you to go to his office.”

“Oh. Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” He glanced at the clock. Daichi wouldn’t stop by for another couple minutes. “Thanks, Hinata!”

“N-no problem!”

Pulling on a jacket, he made his way out of the dressing room and towards Oikawa’s office. As he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open before him, revealing a man with spiky hair and a seemingly permanent frown. He looked down at Suga, his frown replaced with a startled look.

“Excuse me,” he said quickly, before stepping away and hurrying off.

“Hajime, wait!” a voice from inside the room called.

Trying to decide between whether to disturb the moment and step in, or come later, Suga decided on the former. “Um,” Suga said, stepping into the room, “is everything alright?”

Oikawa looked genuinely distressed. He ran his hand through his already unruly hair, muttering to himself before his gaze focused on Suga. “Ah, Suga!” he said in a superficially bright voice. “I wanted to talk to you. Sorry about that ruckus before; it was nothing!”

“Are you alright?” Suga was concerned. His usually aggressive and teasing boss looked like a wreck, and as much as he disliked him, he couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

“Yes,” Oikawa snapped hastily, “but that’s not what we’re here to talk about.” His tone darkened a bit. “I heard you’ve been getting pretty close to one of the customers here recently.”

The face of a friendly, completely awkward, but handsome man appeared in this thoughts. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about,” he lied.

“Perhaps my sources are incorrect.”

Suga could hear the obvious doubt in his voice.

“Just remember, you’re an important employee of our lovely establishment here. It would be a shame if someone were to claim you. You should be careful about the wolves out there, Suga.” His smile was piercing and venomous.

“I don’t recall you being in charge of my personal relationships,” Suga bit back.

“I’m not. I’m merely concerned for your wellbeing!”

“Of course. Well, thank you for the concern. Is that all?”

“Well… yes. I suppose.” Oikawa paused for a moment.

“I’ll take my leave then. Thanks for the talk.” Suga turned around, making his way to the door. He was halfway out when Oikawa called out to him again.

“It would be a shame if our beloved, top employee lost his job,” he said in a singsong voice.

\------

“He just makes me so angry!”

“I’m sure. I would be annoyed too.”

Suga exhaled loudly. “Ugh, I don’t understand why people like that exist.”

“I mean, he’s threatening to fire you over your personal life. You should report him or something. To like, the bureau of stripper bosses. Or something. That doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t want to do that. I know… I know his behavior is pretty unacceptable. But, something just seems off about him. I really don’t think he’s out to get me because he doesn’t like me or anything. Or wants to take advantage of me.”

Daichi huffed. “I’m not sure you can analyze people like that.”

“Trust me,” Suga protested, “I’m a people person!”

“Sure. Anyways, we’re here,” he said, stopping in front of a dimly lit restaurant, gesturing to it blindly behind him.

“We’re eating here? Can we even do that?” Suga said in disbelief.

“Of course! It’s my favorite place to eat. My treat.”

“Daichi. I’m not sure you understood what I was trying to ask. I meant the place is closed.”

Daichi swiveled around. Sure enough, the restaurant was unoccupied and a big, fat sign that said “CLOSED” decorated the fancy door. “Oh,” he commented stupidly.

“Yeah.”

“Um.”

“Well.”

“We can… go to Burger King.”

Suga paused for a moment. “Your treat?”

“Anything from the Dollar Menu,” Daichi joked.

“Dollar Menu is McDonald’s!”

“Shit, what’s Burger King’s called? Saving Menu?”

“Value Menu.”

“I was close enough. We can get some for Asahi and Nishinoya too.” Daichi had dropped Nishinoya off at the Crowbar when he picked up Suga. Hopefully, they weren’t fucking yet or anything. God forbid.

“Sounds good to me.”

In the end, they had bought eight boxes of chicken fries, four for them and four for Asahi and Nishinoya. They made their way back to the Crowbar, the only sound between them being the crunch of breading between their teeth and occasional grunts of satisfaction.

“That was pretty good,” Suga started, licking seasoning off his fingers.

“Mm,” Daichi replied, still chewing. “I swear I did want to take you to that restaurant.” God he hoped Suga was actually okay with his Burger King suggestion. He hoped that Suga didn’t think he was some cheapskate. What if he wouldn’t go on another date with him? He bet that Suga had been taken out to better, more expensive dates than some shoddy, junk food joint with cashiers that thought they had crazy munchies when they ordered eight whole boxes of chicken fries.

“I believe you. Sometimes you have to believe in the charms of fast food, though.”

They approached the doors to the bar, making way for the doorman that swung the glass open for them, nodding at Suga and Daichi.

“I told Asahi that they could talk in my dressing room when he went on break, so they should be there,” Suga said as he waved to another man at the bar mixing drinks.

Daichi shifted the extra boxes of chicken fries in his arms uncomfortably and nodded. Was he going into Suga’s dressing room? Was that allowed? He frowned at himself. Who was he, some kind of pubescent teenage girl? God, he needed to calm down.

Suga walked him into the hallway, throwing open the first door.

“Oh,” they said in unison.

Both of them paused.

“Um,” Suga began.

“T-This isn’t what it looks like Suga!” Asahi stuttered.

“You guys are… not about to have sex in my dressing room?”

“No! I mean--fuck.” Asahi ran his hands over his face.

“I can’t believe this,” Daichi said, exasperated. “Even worse, I can’t believe I almost called it. Did you climb him like a tree or something?” he asked nudging his head towards Nishinoya, who was at least 4 feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his Asahi’s waist.

“Kind of.” Nishinoya shrugged.

“Oh my god.” Daichi sounded mildly horrified.

“We can leave you to your own thing for the time being,” Suga mused.

“No, no, we’re done!” Asahi stuttered, thoroughly red in the face.

“Are you really though,” Daichi asked dryly, one eyebrow perfectly arching over the other.

“Well we brought you guys food!” Suga gestured to the boxes in Daichi’s hands. He reached for them, gently brushing his fingers over Daichi’s forearms. Daichi wondered how nice those hands would feel in his. Or around his dick. Wait. Fuck.

Suga placed the fast food onto his dressing room table, then grabbed Daichi’s hand. Fuck, his dreams came true too soon, Daichi had thought as he was pulled out of the dressing room.

“Have fun!” Suga called as he shut the door.

“We’re not--” Asahi tried to say before he was interrupted by Nishinoya.

“There’s really no saving this situation. We should just…” Nishinoya’s voice faded into the distance as Daichi was led out the hallway and back into the bar area.

“Do you think they’re gonna do it?” Suga giggled as he slid into the bar seat.

“Knowing Nishinoya, probably.” Daichi groaned as he slid into the seat next to Suga’s, dropping his head onto the table. “I’m sorry if they mess up your dressing room.”

“Nah, I think it’ll be fine. Asahi will probably be so guilty that they got caught that he’ll clean the whole room itself after if they do it.”

\------

Lo and behold the room was spotless. Suga whistled appreciatively as he stepped in to grab the rest of his belongings before heading home. Asahi was a thorough cleaner. He slung his bag over his shoulder and glanced at the clock. Three in the morning? Not too bad.

“These are really good!” he heard Nishinoya exclaim from outside. He and Asahi had made their way back to the bar area so Asahi could take his shift, bringing their stash of fast food with them.

“Don’t underestimate Burger King!” he heard Daichi puff out.

“You took him on a date to some crappy fast food joint,” Nishinoya retorted plaintively.

“Hey! It was a backup plan!”

“Some weird-ass backup plans you’ve got there.”

“It was pretty romantic,” Suga said, sidling up next to Daichi.

“Don’t defend him,” Nishinoya scolded, wagging a chicken fry in his direction. It flopped quite phallically. Suga noticed how Asahi’s eyes were glued to Nishinoya’s face as he took bites from his food. 

“Okay, it wasn’t really romantic, then,” he concluded, eyeing Daichi.

“I’m sorry.” Daichi threw his hands in the air, apparently giving up.

“It’s really okay. You can take me out somewhere nicer next time.”

He watched Daichi’s eyes widen for a moment before he ducked his head down, burying it in his arms. He turned to the side, eyeing Suga before he mumbled, “I’ll definitely take you somewhere better.”

It was surprisingly adorable. Suga giggled, resisting the urge to pat him on the back as he rose up from his seat. “It’s about time I go home. It’s about time you guys realize it’s quarter past three in the morning.”

Daichi shot up from his chair, evidently unaware of the time. “Shit. I have a paper due in six hours.”

“You’re a university student?” Suga asked, curious.

“Yeah--I’m a third year at Tohoku University.”

Suga raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s pretty funny.”

“It is?”

“Because I go there too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling somehow uninspired in the beginning of the chapter, but it came back towards the middle so I'm hoping the writing isn't... too shitty in the beginning. Thank you for all your Tumblr messages and comments and kudos! Everytime I get one, I write a paragraph+ before I allow myself to respond. Motivation! Hhhaaaa. I'm a simple being.
> 
> I'm over here at http://aki-ran.tumblr.com! Check ittt.


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